MONKEYSAYS

THE ENIGMATIC DR. F VISITS THE SUNSHINE STATE


ROAD TRIP

I got a late start and didn't get to F's until almost noon. He threw a bag into the back and scrunched himself down in the passenger seat, a baseball cap mashed down on his head, the bill obscuring his face.

"What took you?" he asked.

"I was busy," I replied in my best Luther voice. "And aren't you overplaying the fugitive act a little? I thought the police just wanted to talk to you."

"It's not the police I'm worried about. It's that ape Tony. He's out. He's pissed. And I hear he's asking around about me. I already saw him cruising by here once."

"So, I guess we should get going, then," I said.

"That would be a good idea."

"Try to stay smooshed down like that, at least until dark," I said. "If you get hungry, I'll throw you a peanut."

RIGHT ON THE INNERCOASTAL

"So, where do we stay?" I asked.

"Pompano"

"Where's that?"

"South.” Pretty far south."

"Why Pompano?"

"My cousin's there. He lives all alone in a big house right on the inneracoastal. Says we can stay as long as we want."

"Sounds like a great guy."

A CAVEAT

"Actually," F said, "My cousin, he's pretty straight. Actually, he's really straight."

"I guess you don't mean straight as in not gay," I said.

"I mean straight, like no drinking, no smoking, no drugs, no nothing. Real clean-cut.
Gets up and runs every morning. Goes to church. That kind of straight," F said.

"He's so straight, he sounds a little gay to me," I said.

"That son a bitch, I bet he is gay," F said. "I never really thought about it. Well, as long as we have a place to stay, I don't care what kind of perverted shit he's up to. Let the gay bastard do what he wants. Live and let live. That's what I always say."

"I don't think I ever did hear you say that," I said.

"Say what?"

"I need some money for the bridge toll," I said.


WE WERE SOMEWHERE AROUND BARSTOW ON THE EDGE OF THE DESERT WHEN THE DRUGS BEGAN TO TAKE HOLD.

Sorry, scratch that. What I meant was...


WE WERE SOMEWHERE AROUND ROCKY MOUNT ON THE EDGE OF THE PIEDMONT WHEN THE ALTERNATOR WENT.

"You know," I said, "I'm on a pretty tight leash. An alternator, a battery, a tow, a jump, it's adding up."

We were in a diner, having a late breakfast, while my car was being revitalized.

"It’s not my fault," said F. "You must be nuts trying to drive a piece of shit like that to Florida. Why would you even try something like that? Driving with no headlights. I could have been killed."

I was tempted to reply.

"Look," said F. You go get the car and I'll take care of the check. How's that? You can't whine about a free breakfast."

I walked next door to the garage, ransomed my car and pulled back into the diner lot, looking for F. He appeared from nowhere, jumped in the car and scrunched himself down once again.

"Hit it," he said.

I hit it.

When we got back on the highway I ventured a guess. "I guess you bolted the check.”

"I bolted the check," said F. "That meal sucked. I didn't even eat that white shit next to my eggs."

"They’re called grits," I said. "They like them down here. I hope you at least left a tip."

“Of course I did,” said F. “The service was outstanding.”


GEOGRAPHY

“I don’t know what you’re worrying about. We should do all right. The people down south, they’re ignorant,” F said. “Bunch of backwards morons, almost all of them. People like us are the governors and senators down here.”

“You may be right, in principle,” I said. “But Florida, that’s not really the south. The backwards bastards, they’re mostly in Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, not in Florida. Florida’s totally different.”

F was thinking this over. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Pretty sure,” I said. My impression of Florida is that it’s full of a lot of two bit criminals, hustlers, drug killers, people like that. They come from all over.”

F brightened up. “That could be good too,” he concluded.


LIVE!! ALL NUDE GIRLS!! XXX

“This looks like a good place,” F said. “We should stop here.”

A white cinder block building. Windows painted black. Bars on the door.

“This looks like a clip joint,” I said.

“A what?” F asked.

I explained. “The girls come over to your table. They’re all over you. They ask you to buy them drinks. It’s a bunch of nothing – watered down drinks, club soda in champagne bottles. Then they disappear and you get a tab for a couple hundred dollars – if you’re lucky.”

“Get out,” F laughed. “This I gotta see.”

We worked our way over to a table almost at the foot of the stage. Next to us was a larger table where an impromptu party appeared to have broken out. There four fresh-faced college age young men were having the time of their life. An equal number of almost all-nude dancers had taken a liking to them. They girls were in constant motion, sitting, drinking, laughing, smoking, bending over, having a merry old time. There were at least eight empty champagne bottles on the table, as well as highball glasses and beer bottles.

“So, if you’re right, these guys are fucked,” said F.

“Don’t blink.”

Sure enough, in the blink of an eye, the girls had vanished. In their place stood a very large bouncer, brandishing an even larger drink check.

HI GUYS

We ordered some beers and sat down to enjoy the show. The two all nude dancers on stage paid a lot of attention to us. After their set, they joined us at out table.

“Hi guys. Like our dancing?”

“Sure. It was very nice.”

“Want to buy us some drinks? We can stay a while and get acquainted. Like my tits?”

“Sorry, ladies.” F said. “No drinks tonight.”

The girls got up and went to another table. The very large bouncer came over to our table.

“Hi guys. How’s it going?’

“Great. Just great.”

I noticed he was wearing a name tag. A long name, a last name, not a fake name, like Mr. Robert, but a real name...

“Don’t you like our girls?’

“Sure, we like them just fine,” I said

“Usually, if people like our girls, they like to buy them drinks. Get it fellas?”

I did get it. “Got it,” I said.

“Good,” said the bouncer.

Two more dancers arrived at our table.

“Hi guys.”

“No drinks for you,” F said. He was laughing. “Move along please.”

The bouncer returned. He seemed more puzzled than angry.

“Guys, don’t you get it? The girls, you have to buy them drinks. That’s how it works. You can’t just sit there. Got it?"

“Got it,” I said.

As the bouncer started to leave again, F called him over.

“Actually, there is a problem. The girls, we don’t like them. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with them. But the thing is, we’re a couple of fags. We don’t like girls at all. Tell you what. You get your naked ass up there and dance; we’ll buy you all the drinks you want. Got it.?”

The bouncer seemed a little confused. He didn’t get it. He retreated to confer with a few more monsters on the other side of the room. I knew if the put their heads together, they would get it. I figured we had about thirty seconds.

“Let’s hit it,” I said.

HIT IT, BOLT IT.

I got up and headed toward the exit. I snuck one quick look behind me and saw F sitting calmly at the table. I saw two of the bouncers peeling off and moving toward me. I was going at a full speed when I got to the parking lot. The steroid cases knew they couldn’t catch me, so they tried to outsmart me.

“Yo, buddy. We just want to talk. Just come here a minute. Let’s work this out.”

I really didn’t think we had much to talk about. I was walking down the street as they were yelling. I knew they wouldn’t follow me far off the property. Like big bad bully dogs, they were afraid to leave their master’s lawn. Still, I had to get back to the car, and quick.

When I got to the edge off the lot, I made a dash to the car. By the time they realized what was happening I was in and moving. They came at me from the long end of the lot; they didn’t realize I was heading back toward the club.

I heard a fire alarm go off. At the rear off the club I saw F. He was backing out of an emergency exit, holding a chair in front of him like a lion tamer. Three bouncers were lunging at him; F parried their thrusts with the chair. I floored it right at them, and then braked hard, raising a spray of gravel. The bouncers headed for cover, diving back into the bar. F carefully set down the chair and got in the front seat.

“Now. Hit it," he said.

ON THE ROAD AGAIN


I kept thinking of the first bouncer, the dim one who kept trying to explain the rules to us. How did they fit that monster name on one of those name tags? And why bother? Bolenciecwcz. Not a common name. Had to be a relative. Maybe a grandson.

“I told you they’re morons down here,” said F. “We’re hardly in Florida and already free nude girls, free beer, the works.”

“Maybe,” I said. "But that first guy, he’s not from the south, he's from Ohio. Or at least his family was.”

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